A Correspondence
by lakergal
Summary: Squire Nealan of Queenscove is ordered to send out his Knight Mistress's Midwinter invitations, with disasterous results...


Author's Note:  
  
I had a brainstorm for this story a while ago, and I finally sat down to write it out. As always, standard disclaimer, blah blah blah, all characters belong to Tamora Pierce (except for the beautiful Lady Hakalia!), and please review if you can spare a moment. Any Tortall fans who happen upon this piece, PLEASE visit the website that my sister and I created. You won't regret it! I swear!  
  
http://www.tortall.tk  
  
And on to the story...  
  
Prologue  
  
"Squire, I need you to send out my Midwinter invitations."  
  
Nealan of Queenscove looked up from his desk with a heavy sigh, where he had been reading a scroll about the possible application of healing magic in the modern Bazhir tribe-structured society. "My lady, don't I have enough to do with all the sword trickery and Shang mastery you require of me?" he complained. "Not to mention the additional hours spent healing sniffles and scrapes that I'm supposed to put in. How am I ever supposed to fit this in among my other duties?"  
  
Lady Alanna chuckled. "You might have a lot to learn about fighting, Neal," she commented dryly, "but you definitely have a way with words that the rest of us can only watch with wonder."  
  
"How very true," Neal drawled. "At last, my unequaled abilities receive the recognition they deserve..."  
  
The lady knight hit him upside the head. "Oh, don't be a prat," she ordered sternly. "I only want you to do this because I can't make it seem like I actually WANT some total nitwit like the Lady Hakalia to attend our banquet, when the only reason she's being invited is because of George's duty as a Baron."  
  
"Honored, I'm sure," Neal remarked dryly. His Knight Mistress glared at him.  
  
"Just do the work," she told him, dropping the stack of invitations on his desk. "I need to send these out by sunset." Eyeing Neal's sullen expression, Alanna smiled wickedly. "Finish early and we still should have time to head into Corus. That nasty case of the sniffles seems to have struck another neighborhood..."  
  
Not deigning to respond, Neal sighed and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. Sometimes, it seemed as if the entire realm would go to pieces if he took a day off.  
  
----  
  
Midwinter, year 456  
  
Lady Hakalia,  
  
I am writing to you on behalf of my Knight Mistress, the dashing Lioness and King's Champion, Lady Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau, who wishes to humbly invite you to grace her with your enthralling presence at her Midwinter banquet. She and her husband, Baron George Cooper of Pirate's Swoop, would be honored to have you in attendance, as your beauty is unequaled among the ladies of Tortall. In fact, she spoke to me this very day, saying "My dear Squire Neal, if Lady Hakalia does not wish to attend, I might as well call the whole banquet off. After all, why even bother holding a celebration if the most graceful, most charming woman in all of the Eastern lands cannot make the entire event worthwhi--  
  
----  
  
"Neal, we don't want her to feel TOO welcome," Alanna interrupted, staring over his shoulder.  
  
The brown-haired squire glared up at his Knight Mistress. "My lady, do you want me to do the work or not?"  
  
Eyeing the tall stack of invitations piled on the desk, Alanna smirked and mildly took a step back. "Continue, Squire...but please, don't make her think that I actually WANT her to come. If you send something like that, she'll stay through the entire season!"  
  
"Details, details," Neal muttered as he got back to work.  
  
  
A Correspondence  
by Sara  
  
Lady Hakalia,  
  
My Knight Mistress, Lady Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau, humbly requests your presence at her Midwinter banquet this season. She would be honored to have you in attendence. If you wish to accept this most gracious invitation, please reply at your earliest convenience to my Lady's residence in Corus.  
  
Sincerely,  
Squire Nealan of Queenscove  
Humble Servant to Lady Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau  
  
----  
  
Lady Hakalia,  
  
Your acceptance of Lady Alanna's invitation blesses her more than a thousand moons of good fortune. Our entire house quivers with anticipation for your arrival, and the Baron himself stated that he was furiously gleeful that you had deigned to join us for this most festive occasion. Please arrive promptly at seven, for tea will be served shortly thereafter.  
  
Sincerely,  
Squire Nealan of Queenscove  
  
----  
  
Lady Hakalia,  
  
Lady Alanna thanks you most graciously for attending her Midwinter banquet, and she would wish to offer an apology for her comparison of your mental abilities to those of a swine. In addition, I would like to offer an explanation for the record that when Lady Alanna stated that you shouldn't comment on others' decisions because you would never make anything of your life other than to marry a rich lord if you could even succeed in snagging one because you were, I believe the phrase was, "as ugly as a cow", she had had too much mead to drink at the pre-dinner celebration with her husband. She profoundly regrets her actions, and hopes that you will accept her most sincere atonement.  
  
I would also like to state that, contrary to my Knight Mistress's loud and uncalled-for statement otherwise, you were clearly the most radiant lady in attendence and I was deeply honored to make your aquaintance. Please do not let the actions of my Master reflect badly on this poor, innocent squire, who is still struck speechless by your beauty.  
  
Sincerely,  
Squire Nealan of Queenscove  
  
----  
  
Dear Lady Hakalia  
  
You are probably surprised to be receiving yet another letter from me, and I offer my deepest apologies for any confusion you might feel. I took it upon myself to write to you on a matter of little importance to anyone but myself, and I hope that you will forgive my fowardness in lieu of what I have to say.  
  
While I know that a lady like yourself would never care to venture into the crude underbelly of our beloved capital, I plead to the gods that you will pardon my saying that, upon a recent trip into the Corus marketplace, I discovered an item that evokes deep resemblances to your gracious person. Whilst I was browsing a stall (only out of curiousity and upon my Knight Mistress's insistence, I assure you; I do not take pleasure in such uncouth affairs normally), I happened upon a remarkable scarf that seemed to me the exact color as your marvelous eyes. Much as your beauty glows like a star in the darkest of the Tortallan night, this poor article of clothing called out for my attention, outshining its most mundane brethren in its outstanding resemblence to your own belle tournoure.  
  
I plead with you to accept this scarf as a gift from myself, as I could not help but purchase it and have no other use for it. Its beauty is great but, without your tender presence to lend paramount to its deaden silk, useless in my own eyes.  
  
Sincerely,  
Squire Nealan of Queenscove  
  
----  
  
Dear Lady Hakalia,  
  
Words cannot express the joy I felt upon receiving your reply; you are, truly, a diamond among the rough of Tortallan society. I would be honored to accept your invitation for tea, and will present myself at your residence two days from now. I hope you do not think me ostentatious, but my entire being quivers with anticipation of seeing you again.  
  
My sincere thanks are yours,  
Nealan of Queenscove  
  
----  
  
My dear Lady Hakalia,  
  
I write to you to offer my most sincere remercies for the wonderful tea I took with you yesterday. Though the refreshments you served were plump with sugar, they pale in comparison to the sweetness of your voice and the beauty of your thoughts. Dining with you was a moment out of time, a perfect existence that I wish had never come to its bitter conclusion. After knowing what it is to live, to truly live, in your presence, the mundane life of a squire is bleak and lifeless in comparison.  
  
My heart swells with emotion as I think upon your perfect visage. I cannot filter the joy that filled me during my time with you yesterday through the crude words that we naively say can express our thoughts. You are a soft petal, a fallen star, a glorious morning in the middle of the summer when all is right in the world. I am honored beyond all belief that you would accept me into your home, and my mind sings with the thought of seeing you again.  
  
Perhaps tomorrow, for supper?  
  
Awaiting your response with a fearful heart,  
Nealan  
  
----  
  
Dearest Lady Hakalia,  
  
Please do not trouble your soft lips with apologies for this crude page. I understand completely that someone as glorious as yourself has plenty of marvelous occasions with which to occupy your time, and there is no reason for you to feel regret at being unable to accept my invitation.  
  
I would be honored to join you next week at your dinner party. Unfortunately, though my Knight Mistress, the Lady Alanna, received her own invitation from you with joy nearly equal to my own (but not quite, as how can someone of such crude upbringing appreciate the qualities that make you as wonderous as you have become?), she will be unable to attend. Sadly, the duties of the King's Champion will require her to be present at the palace, although she gladly releases me from my alliegence to her so that I may attend in her stead.  
  
Your image lingers ever in my mind's eye; I did not know beauty until I looked up on your face. Anticipation thrills me as I wait desperately to see you once again.  
  
My Lady wishes me to inquire if I am to bring anything for supper.  
  
Your most faithful servant,  
Nealan  
  
----  
  
Dearest Hakalia,  
  
How I regret that I have sworn liegence to Lady Alanna, for my entire being calls out for me to give my heart to you! Your dinner party went by like a glorious dream, in which every moment I feared that I would awake to the harsh coldness of reality without your presence. You cannot imagine the joy I felt upon seeing the scarf that I had so humbly presented to you curled around your neck. I hope that I did not float so high as to inconvenient the other guests, but in my great happiness I was unable to restrain myself to the simple earth.  
  
Allow me to compare your beauty to a summer day, though it is a shallow allusion: the intermittance of light will come to an end while your elegance will live on throughout eternity. Your skin is as pale as the early-morning sun peaking over the mountains, your breath as sweet as the blooming rose, your eyes as clear as the dancing dewdrops on the leaves above. Mithros himself could not create a being of as perfect visage as your own, Shakith fades when compared with your beauty, and even the Goddess herself quivers with jealousy when she is allowed to peer upon your face.  
  
My heart sings out for your love, my very being pulses in tune with your beat. I am yours, to own and to command. Do what you will with me, but I beg of you...leave my heart in peace. Even if my destiny is to long for you from afar, I would rather be the dog licking the soles of your elegant slippers than the convict doomed to live without your presence.  
  
All my love,  
Neal  
  
----  
  
My lovely one,   
  
Your face reflects the moon in its elegance, shining out through the darkest night. Your eyes are glimmering gems, the most precious in all of the realm. Even my Queen, Thayet the Peerless, cannot compare with your beauty, glorious as it is. You are too simple to describe through words, yet too beautiful to be captured by even the most genius work of art.  
  
If you were to take up a sword, the entire realm would fall before your mercy, but I beg of you to spare it, because I have already fallen victim to your heart and I would be obliged to stand by your side and promote treason among my countrymen. You are the most daring, most lovely, most gracious creature in all of the Eastern lands...nay, in all of the world! No living creature, god or mortal, can compare to your beauty, and Mithros shall declare it a blasphemy for one even to try.  
  
My words cannot express the love that fills my heart. I am naught but your possession, always and forever. Command me how you will, but only speak, and I shall obey.  
  
Words fail me,  
Neal  
  
----  
  
Love of my Life,  
  
I write to you from the pedestal by my bed, where I have awaken from a most horrendous dream. I imagined that I lay in your arms, surrounded by your grace, but all at once it was torn away from me and I found myself abandoned and alone. My hands shake as I transcribe these words at the thought of the most wonderous bliss that I have lost. If only I could will myself back to sleep and return to this most glorious dreamland, where your grace surrounds and fills me!  
  
Alas, I have finally fallen to the rigours of love, but do not mourn for me, for such defeat is sweeter than any victory I could possibly imagine. I live only for the moment when I shall see you again. Please, my lady, do not leave me seclusion much longer. Let me return to your presence, even if it is only for a moment fleeting.  
  
I remain ever faithful to you,  
Neal  
  
----  
  
Goddess of my Heart,  
  
It pains me to say so, but I fear that the clumsy servants that my Knight Mistress employs have lost your last response. I have not heard from you for a matter of weeks now, and my heart cries out with fear that something terrible has befallen you or those you love. My biting terror is calmed only by the thought that if something horrible had befallen one as beautiful as yourself, all of Tortall would be in mourning.  
  
Please return my correspondence and let me know that you still live. My heart sings out for you, my eyes weep at having wasted away for so long without first peering upon your visage. You remain my world, the center of my very existence, and I will wait for your reply until my dying day.  
  
Forever yours,  
Neal  
  
----  
  
Hakalia, jewel of Tortall,  
  
I am fearful, as anxiety fills my very being. My friends worry, for I cannot eat, cannot drink, cannot do but mourn for your lost love. Why have I not heard from you? It has been over a week. Perhaps my Knight Mistress's servants are playing a cruel joke, knowing how I have fallen for you and seeking to drive me mad from neglect.  
  
I shall deliver this note myself and not leave until I am assured that it will reach your hand. If I must camp out on your step, so be it. I will be dead of frostbite before I abandon my post. As always, my faith and liegence belong to you alone.  
  
Desperately yours,  
Neal  
  
----  
  
My dear heart,  
  
Your butler informed me of the dreadful illness that has so terribly stricken your household. Whatever has befallen you, I plead to your graces to let me assist. I may not have had cause to mention it in the past, but I am a skilled healer, trained by my father Duke Baird and the Lady Alanna. Even if I cannot but ease your pain, perhaps my presence will be some console in your poor health.  
  
Please, my love, do not fear for me. If I fall to the horrible disease that has stricken your wonderous being, so be it; at least I will have been with you and offered what I could when you were in need. You only have to write and command it, and I will come to your bedside at once.  
  
You remain, ever, the center of my world,  
Neal  
  
----  
  
Beautiful, glorious Hakalia,  
  
Despite your insistences that you could recover under your own doctor's care, I grew worried when you did not emerge from your stricken solitude. I hope you will forgive me for taking it upon myself to visit you yesterday morning, but worry filled my heart until I could do nothing but think of you and your plight.  
  
Imagine my surprise when your servants informed me that you had not only recovered, but had decided to take a long vacation to the countryside! I nearly cried with joy. At last, you had escaped the dreadful illness that strickened you, even if we have been torn apart once again!  
  
Perhaps, if you can spare the short moment it would require to write to me, you can send word of your journey. My Knight Mistress has mentioned that she wishes to take a journey from Corus, because the tedious planning that goes in to the upcoming Progress is wearing thin. If all goes as well as I wish it, we can be together shortly! As soon as I know where you have gone, I will follow in your footsteps!  
  
Your simple servant,  
Neal  
  
----  
  
Mistress of my world,  
  
Finally, my heart is at peace! I received your last letter, in which you stated your regrets but that you were suddenly called away to urgent business in the Southern Desert.   
  
Though I mourned at first -- cursed Mithros! you being called away to the most inhospitable place in all of Tortall just as we could finally be together again -- I soon received news that made me smile once again, for I shall be able to join you in your exile!  
  
Imagine the luck! You are required to travel to the most barren place imaginable, but even when such terrible tragedy befalls us, Mithros smiles and shows his mercy. My Knight Mistress has recently received word that we, too, shall be required to travel to the Great Southern Desert so she can fulfill some of her obligations to the Bazhir tribes as a former shaman before we join the Great Progress. We will be able to be together once again!  
  
My heart sings out with joy, my head swells with anticipation. Your beauty, I am sure, remains as ravenous as ever, for such true perfection can never decline. I await our encounter with growing delight.  
  
At last, we can be together!  
  
Ever loving,  
Neal   
  
----  
  
First Day of Spring, Year 457  
Office of Lord Brandle  
  
Squire Nealan:  
  
I am writing to you on behalf of my charge, the Lady Hakalia of Janus, with whom you have been in correspondence with for the past few moons. After your first few letters, my Lady grew extremely uncomfortable in your presence and attempted to distance herself from you. In spite of her growing efforts and pleadings for you to cease your courtship, you have stubbornly refused to accept this reality and have continued to force yourself upon her.  
  
Lady Hakalia does not wish to be involved with you at this time, nor does she believe she will ever be so inclined. She has informed you of this matter several times, though she fears that you have either ignored her or written off her protestations in favor of your own fancies.  
  
In lieu of your status as a Squire of the Realm, I will not be pressing charges at this time. However, I must request that you restrain and desist from sending any future letters. I will be informing your Knight Mistress of this juncture, in hopes that she can restrain you where you seem unable to restrain yourself.  
  
If you continue to harrass my charge, you will be brought before the tribunal of the King.  
  
Sincerely,  
Lord Brandle of Janus 


End file.
